


Creature Comforts

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Blanket Fic, Blankets, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Comfort No Hurt, F/M, Fluff, Hera Syndulla Needs A Hug, Kanan Jarrus & Hera Syndulla as Space Parents, Morning Cuddles, Parental Hera Syndulla, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Sleep, Sleepy Cuddles, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29993271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Sometimes something as simple as a blanket makes the galaxy a much easier place to live in.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	Creature Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZeldaRose579](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaRose579/gifts).



> Hera deserves nice things, and if one of those things is just a big ass heavy blanket to shut out the galaxy with then I'm giving it to her-that and kanan since kanera forever

Gifts were something of a rare commodity. There were a fine number of reasons; the fact that kindness had withered in the galaxy, or fine once common objects were now entirely in the hands of the rich, and while at war-especially as a rebel, it wasn’t often they had any possessions that couldn’t fit on their person at all times.

Hera had more leeway with this, having the Ghost to store the bare minimum of comforts, and truthfully the only one she had was probably the caf maker. The blankets in her room were the same scratchy ones in the rest of the cabins, and her pillows didn’t have much fluff either.

She’d gotten used to it, and Kanan had never complained when he’d come into her life. Zeb had harrumphed because the Ghost was cramped and as a hulking Lasat that was something he had to adjust to. Although he’d long since gotten used to beds and blankets being too small for him.

Sabine’s only complaint had been the lack of color, which she’d rectified the second she had the paint to do so. Hera still doesn’t know how the girl slept in there with the sickening fumes that night, but she’s pretty sure the door was cracked when she blearily went to the fresher later on.

Ezra had complained the most, but she understood. In fact he’d held back for a long time, until he was comfortable, once he was sure this was his home. It’d been cold and his whines had been never ending.

They’d ran out of food and the child had thrown himself over the table, slumped in agony, groaning with his stomach. If it had just been some random kid having barged in she was sure she would have been annoyed, but considering it was her kid, who had more than his fair share of hardship she didn't mind.

Hera found she liked trying to spruce things up in the slightest for her crew, also terribly pleased that all of her family felt comfortable enough in her abode; in their home to be so blase about what could be fixed. It brought a small sense of normalcy in this unrelenting war.

* * *

The Twi’lek retreated to her room, arms aching from the work she’d been doing that night. Her lungs unpleasantly tight, they always were on the long missions where most of her family was away. In fact, they all were at the moment, leaving her and Chopper on their own. 

It’s tedious with her strained fingers to unclip and unbutton her flight suit, and she shivers in displeasure when she pulls off her cap and goggles, the rubber material dragging over her sensitive lekku less than smoothly.

The appendages are always more tender after a long and stressful night. The minute her blanket rubs up against her skin, she throws the blanket off the side with more energy than she thought she had.

Hera goes to bed cold with her lekku twitching in irritation.

* * *

She’s managed to fix all the things on her list, a great many more too. Dismantled things that likely didn’t need it before putting them back together again. And only when she’s tightened the air conditioning for the umpteenth time does she reach out to the rebellion for something to do.

Bail arranges for her to help with a supply run, it’s nothing much and it doesn’t take her long to return back to the base. Chopper rudely helped slam the boxes off the ramp, the rebels helping unpack wearily eyeing the droid as they pulled down the rest of the crates.

“Excuse me General Syndulla?” a voice calls, causing the twi’lek to turn her head, “This box is addressed to you. From Senator Organa, for your trouble,” her brows furrow at this.

It was a sizable crate, a little taller than her knee and big enough that some of the wood was bulging at the sides. Chopper’s top spins, slamming into her shin, already knowing she’s thinking of declining.

With a sigh the general takes the box, giving the man an appreciative smile before she heads back inside, locking the ship down while she’s at it. She barely has to do a thing with the crowbar, the wood falls away easily after a second, exposing a luxury blanket neatly packaged in plastic so it wouldn’t get dirty.

Hera drops to her knees, unzipping the plastic so her hand could settle on the cloth. She thinks better of it when she notices the dirt on her gloves, pulling the damn things off and hooking them to her belt before she runs her hands over the sinfully soft fabric.

It’s the softest thing she’s ever felt, and it’s one of the nicest things she’s ever gotten, as a gift or even for herself. Hera feels silly at the tears suddenly spilling from her eyes, a grateful smile transforming her lips.

She nearly presses her face into the fabric, only just remembering she still had her scuffed goggles on her head. Chopper pressed forward and Hera quickly stood, picking up the blanket still neatly packed in plastic and headed towards her room before he could get his muddy claws on the thing.

Her violent little droid continued to follow, asking insistently what about a blanket was making her cry. Fondly she knocked her ankle against him, effectively quieting the menace before she dropped the package on her bunk.

She doesn’t think she’d ever changed so quickly in her life, not even during a mission. Hera doesn't think she’s ever been this eager for a material thing either, her closest comparison is whenever Kanan gets home after a long mission. He wasn’t exactly something she owned, but a small part of her liked to think of him as hers.

The blanket is massive, not only in length and width but in thickness. She’s pretty sure as she pulls it out of the packaging she could line the floor of her cabin with it and the edges would still have to fold up against the wall. 

The padding within made it bulky, invitingly so. Hera doesn’t unfold it all the way, she couldn’t if she wanted it to fit on her bunk and not touch the floor. The twi’lek giggled in triumph, feeling like a child as she crawled within the folds, completely hidden from the outside world. 

She’d never fallen asleep so quickly or deeply in her life. All the rest she’d forgone for so long washed over her, stealing her from the galaxy entirely.

* * *

There is no welcome when the rest of the spectre's board the Ghost, they look around confused. Kanan’s sightless eyes scan for her even when he knows he won't see her, but he won’t lie: he’s a little disheartened that she wasn’t there to greet him.

The kids and Zeb are more confused than hurt, although they are too drained to give it much thought. Chopper wobbles in then, chasing some of their fatigue since the droids' loud whirrs and demonic spinning immediately puts them on edge.

“Did he just say Hera cried over a blanket?” Zeb questioned, his brow furrowed.

“Didn’t Ezra cry over a blanket before too?” Sabine spoke up, knowing Hera had been running herself ragged, and after the two of them had been alone together for a while when the others were off, she hadn’t missed the older woman’s longing.

“Hey that's different-”

Kanan left the four behind, sensing his beloved's bright signature muted in sleep. His upset is blown away then, greeting be damned, Hera actually getting some sleep was far more important...but a sleepy reunion would be nice too.

He passes the fresher, stopping in his tracks, pulling at his collar for a sniff and ultimately deciding he should probably shower first. With a sigh, Kanan slipped his mask and belt off, passing the kids as they slumped into their rooms and dropped into their beds.

Setting his things onto his bunk, Kanan picked out his sleep clothes. (His dresser had been organized by outfit so he knew what he was wearing.) The jedi doesn’t take long as he goes through the motions, washing his body, his hair, and redressing once again. Taking his own clothes back to his room knowing they’d be lost or he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he left them in there.

Hera’s door opens with a soft hiss, and Kanan walks in quietly as not to wake her, moving to settle onto the cot. The feeling of it dipping odd, different, physically comforting in a way he could only dream of it ever being. 

His feet brush the scratchy blanket on the ground, and he wonders where she’d gotten this new one. This amazingly soft and luxurious blanket that he couldn’t imagine Hera spending a credit on.

When he runs his hand over the material, he can just barely feel the shape of her body beneath the material. It takes him longer than it should to find the damn fold she’d crawled into, effectively cocooning herself.

He slips in tentatively, the warmth and her body instinctually curling against his own helping un-tense the muscles in his back that had been stiff ever since his departure. He follows her to sleep in the same way he follows her everywhere, devotedly.

* * *

Hera’s eyes open languidly, the heart beat beneath her earcone and scent in her nose a second home to her. Wrapping her legs up in his, Hera drags the bridge of her nose across his jaw, dragging her lips over his pulsepoint and leaving a small mark she knew he wouldn’t see but would hopefully appreciate regardless.

Unconsciously he curled further around her, a rumbling groan rising from his chest as he was pulled towards wakefulness.

“Where’d you get this?” He ground out, his voice much deeper after a good night’s rest. 

“A present from Bail,” The twi’lek explained, pulling his head down for a kiss. 

“It’s a nice gift,” he returns idly, trailing a hand down the knobs of her spine. The captain nods against his sternum in agreement.

“I missed you love,”

“I missed you too,” Kanan returns, feeling as she falls back into the dark, her signature screaming in content. 

The kids pass by the door a couple of times that morning, Zeb wondering if Hera was going to get up and make breakfast like she usually did when they get back from a long trip. Sabine loiters around as well hoping to either train with Kanan or ask if Hera will take her to get more spray paint.

Ezra sticks by as well, wanting a mixture of the other two’s desires. Craving breakfast and training, but also secretly hoping to get his hands on the supposedly tear-worthy blanket.

* * *

The general raises a brow at the young Jedi passed out on her bed, an exasperated smile tugging at her lips. Well, at least he’d done his chores and he wasn’t getting the blanket dirty. Maybe if she asked, Bail could get her a couple more. Less extravagant ones than the original, knowing they didn’t have the room, but still comfortable enough to bring tears to ones eyes.

The Ghost and it’s crew deserved as much.

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


End file.
